Persephone's Sister
by AndraLee
Summary: When Edward saw Tyler Crowley's van careening across the school parking lot toward Bella, he launched an impromptu rescue that left her seriously injured.
1. Prologue: The Accident

**PERSEPHONE'S SISTER: Prologue - The Accident**

**"I'd never given much thought to how I would die... but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this." **

When the mechanical screaming grabbed my attention, I looked up to see Edward Cullen, my enigmatic lab partner, staring at me as he stood several parking spaces away. The intensity of his shocked expression registered in my mind at the same moment I identified that the source of the noise was Tyler Crowley's van. It was sliding across the school parking lot directly toward my truck and I was in the way. I was about to be crushed. I was going to die.

It occurred to me that I should close my eyes, but there wasn't time. And just as I thought the van would hit me, something knocked me to the ground. Hard. Too hard. The black ice under my head shattered. I struggled to focus, but I could only see the eminent danger that reached for me. I couldn't find the breath to scream or utter a swear word like the voice at my side contained. The voice at my side. Edward's voice.

Although my attention to the careening van did not diminish, I was suddenly more aware of his presence beside me than I had ever been aware of anything ever before. For a few seconds, nothing mattered except _Edward_.

Edward's pale hands appeared protectively in front of me, pushing the van. It lashed out at me again, but Edward blocked its path and dragged me away. Foiled, the van heaved and settled with a groan onto the pavement where my legs had been only a split second before. The cacophony of grinding metal and breaking glass was followed by silence and then by a strange buzzing. I searched for Edward's face.

**"Bella, are you alright?" **Words wrenched from his tight lips.

**"I'm fine,"** I mumbled, unsure if the tingling in my body was due to some injury or the fact that the Edward was holding _me_. I recalled the strange charged feeling that the slight touch of his fingers had elicited in Biology and I attempted to sit.

**"Be careful,"** Edward cautioned. **"I think you hit your head pretty hard." ** His voice was thick with concern.

My head did hurt, but by all rights shouldn't I be mangled beyond feeling anything at all? **"How did you get over here so fast?"** I asked.

For an instant Edward looked relieved, but as he spoke, the relief fell from his features, giving way to a practiced innocence. **"I was standing right next to you, Bella," **he whispered as he released me.

I looked deep into Edward's light amber eyes. I wanted to get lost there. I wanted to forget the sounds of the gathering crowd. I wanted to ignore their shouts and reclaim the space he had created between us. I wanted. I wanted...

I wanted to throw up.

Several things happened at once. First, the ache in my head began to grow as the blood pounding in my veins started beating at my closed head wound from the inside. Everything began to spin and I tasted this morning's cereal and orange juice on the back of my tongue. I closed my eyes.

"Bella?" Edward said, returning to me. I tried to stand, but he placed a hand - the same one that lifted the van away from us - on my shoulder. "You shouldn't move," he admonished. Very gently, Edward put his icy hand over the rising knot on my head. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I never meant to hurt you."

I leaned back against him. What was he saying? "What are you talking about?" I asked him. I was starting to sweat. I opened my eyes again. He wasn't breathing. In fact, Edward looked like he was in more pain and closer to regurgitating than I was. "Are YOU hurt?"

Edward seemed unable or, perhaps, unwilling to anwer. For a long time, he said nothing.

**"You were over there,"** I declared, wanting to hear him speak again. **"You were by your car."**

**"Bella, I was standing right next to you, and pulled you out of the way. You hit your head," **he insisted, although far less vigorously than before. **"Please, Bella."**

Maybe I didn't really want to argue. I only wanted to rest and stare into Edward's pleading eyes; I said nothing more, merely nodding when Edward related his version of events to everyone who asked. No one seemed to even consider the possibility that he also might have been injured, even his family.

When I began to vomit, I decided his lies didn't matter, because I knew with the greatest certainty that I was going to die. If from nothing else, I was going to die of embarrassment.

"Bella, don't go to sleep. Talk to me, Bella." I heard Edward's urgent voice from the somewhere nearby. So close. Too far. A curtain was dropping. I closed my eyes and slipped under.

* * *

A/N: This story has been on hiatus since last summer. All of the chapter are written and have been waiting for beta review. I've decided to go back over them, make a few changes and post them without a beta. Thanks to all who have reviewed and wrote, from time to time, inquiring about this story.

_Disclaimer:__ The world of Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. Limited dialog and sentences from the saga appear within the following text in bold print. No copyright infringement is intended._


	2. Assessment

_Disclaimer:__ The world of Twilight belongs to the wonderful Stephenie Meyer. I just want to play with her toys. Limited dialog and text from the Twilight saga appear within the following text. No copyright infringement is intended._

**Persephone's Sister: Chapter 1 - Assessment**

After Bella collapsed, I replayed the accident over and over in my head, beginning with my sister Alice's gasped denial of the vision of Bella's death. Alice's premonition showed Bella pinned between her truck and Tyler Crowley's van. The right rear quarter panel of the van caught Bella below the sternum, rupturing internal organs and pushing her diaphragm upward. Her ribs cracked and broke her chest open from the inside, releasing her blood. Bella's lifeless arm hid her face.

Looking away from that future, I found Bella's eyes on me and saw a flicker of comprehension and fear. Suddenly, one thought erased any concern that I should have had for the ramifications of my actions: _**NOT HER!**_

When I threw myself across the parking lot, I failed to appreciate that _SHE_ was the greatest danger that _I _faced. My knees buckled beneath me the moment I touched her fragile, warm body, leaving us both in the path of the oncoming van. Overcome by her nearness, I struggled to retain the capacity to think and move. (Had not inadvertently touching her hand yesterday left me quivering? Was that not a warning? ) As a result, my efforts to stop the van were clumsy.

Turning my attention from the vehicle, I was immediately relieved to find her eyes intent upon me. Her bewildered, vulnerable expression made it much easier to ignore the fiend that begged for satisfaction. He could have ripped her asunder merely for the opportunity to taste her.

I realized that her head had struck the pavement and was fearful that the impact had drawn blood; I spoke softly to her, conserving my air. I knew that the smell of blood would weaken my will to stave the monster. I stopped breathing and tasted the odors that the breeze carried into my own mouth. _No blood._ Savoring her delicate movements as I held her in my arms, I sighed in relief and considered her words.

**"How did you get over here so fast?"**

I willed the affect of credulousness to my features and forced myself to let her go. The beast snarled. An unfamiliar voice inside me weakly whined, as the painfully produced lie left my lips. **"I was standing right next to you, Bella."**

I saw an argument well up behind her eyes and a mixture of consternation and confusion furrow her brow. Bella cast a flickering glance over the distance between us and swallowed hard before closing her eyes. Wincing, she paled and her breathing came faster; she rubbed her head as she tried to stand.

The monster reveled in her weakness and plotted his first move, willing me to spring. _No!_ The stranger's voice bellowed in anguish, protesting my inclination to comply. _"Help her!"_

Bella's pained reactions and the fractured ice covering the ground where I had carelessly allowed her head to fall, called for a more thorough assessment of her injuries. I moved as close as I could to her again, tentatively, mindful of the need to limit the contact between our bodies. I placed my hand upon her shoulder, cautioning her not to move.

When I reached up to touch the hand Bella held to her head, she let her hand drop away and I found a small knot rising above her left ear. I wished she would open her eyes again so that I might search their depths for some meaning. I murmured an apology and let myself hope that my cold hand alleviated some of the discomfort she might feel. Hope swelled as I noted that the tightness of her lips eased. It was another warning that I should have heeded. I was unprepared for what happened next.

Completely relaxing, she leaned back against me, enveloping me in her warmth and softness. The gentleness of her movements contradicted the raw power of the feelings produced by her nearness; I floundered under the monumental effort needed to form coherent thoughts. She finally opened her eyes, trapping me. I was transfixed by her trusting gaze, the moisture on her lips, the motion of her muscles as she swallowed, and the sight of her subtle inhalations. Silken strands of her hair brushed my face.

Sensing my debility, the monster crouched, preparing to savage her exposed neck. He calculated the time needed to sample his feast and then create evidence that the van had killed her.

_Please!_ The foreigner asserted himself in my mind, begging for Bella's life.

I allowed my other arm to wrap itself protectively around her waist once more, concentrating on the duty to keep her safe. But the rhythmic pulse of her heart transferred itself to my fingers, and my mind writhed almost helplessly as the traitorous appendages began to curl menacingly around her rib cage.

Only the depth of her sudden concern saved us.

"Are YOU hurt?" Bella implored.

I was in agony. I wondered if I ran far and fast enough, I could somehow leave the monster behind. I contemplated carrying her away with me. So strong was the desire that I knew I would have done it, ignored the decades of denial and self-control, if she but offered me her affection.

Affection? The beast within railed against the notion. Yes, affection.

**"You were over there,"** she dared. **"You were by your car." **

Tamed, as I was, I could only deny the truth of her spoken observations half-heartedly. I cringed from the anger in her words.

New fears ran through me. If I had set myself upon her on that first day, when the force of her scent had nearly driven me mad, would I have been paralyzed?

Desperate to find comfort in an alternate reality and to avoid any further analysis of the strange effects Bella drew from me, I conjured up scenarios wherein I might have interceded earlier. I pictured driving to school in front of Crowley, forcing him to reduce his speed. I imagined stepping out in front of the van, making Crowley apply the breaks and swerve - away from the school and away from Bella - to avoid hitting me. (I assumed, of course, he would not hit me, saving me from having to explain how I had managed to total the vehicle without sustaining the tiniest scratch.)

Next, I envisioned walking over to Bella the instant she had gotten out of her truck, and gently guiding her to a place of safety. No, that might have involved touching her, so I amended the thought and visualized calling out and luring her to me. At least, I really would have been at her side and wouldn't have hurt her, and now I wouldn't be wondering what she will remember, if and, when she wakes up.

In the aftermath, it was easy to analyze the mistakes made in my hasty rescue, but I could not change what had been done. I cursed my carelessness and my evil. Stupid monster. Even though my impulsive intervention meant that Bella still lived, her physical signs and symptoms indicated that I had seriously injured her.

The ride to Forks General Hospital was torturously slow, despite the personal police escort provided by Bella's father, Chief Swan. I alternately prayed that the EMT in the back of the ambulance with Bella would not try to start an IV; then I cursed him for not providing all possible care. When a car had pulled out in front of us at an intersection, I wanted to leap from the ambulance and rip the phone from the hands of the driver. _Pay attention moron! _

The monster raised its head and growled, committing the license plate of the offending vehicle to memory. _If the girl is unavailable today, perhaps a moron will suffice? _I rejected the monster's claim on the girl, but I was indifferent to the plight of the moron. The stranger in my head reminded us that harming human beings was unacceptable. At that point, I had to chastise myself for taking a turn at internally growling; loosing the brute would do nothing to reduce my frustration.

Upon arrival at the hospital, I made my way through the building to find my father, a surgeon. I assumed he would have been alerted that a trauma victim was en route, but I didn't know if he was yet aware of my connection to the incident. I listened to the minds within the structure and finally found the one I was looking for in a nearby hallway. His sensitive hearing caught the sound of my footsteps as I approached, and I heard him think: _I've been waiting for you, son. _

I wished that he could read my thoughts. When I turned the corner, he was looking out a window into the parking area adjacent the ambulance bay. He didn't turn, waiting for me to speak. He was guarded, hesitant to look into my eyes. Was he afraid of what he would see there? I heard him inhale, testing the atmosphere around us. Was he satisfied that my clothing held no trace of the girl's blood? Did he think the accident might have been some kind of a ruse to conceal a nefarious act on my part? _Are you alright, Edward?_

"Yes, Carlisle; I'm okay." I tried to keep my voice even. "Alice had a premonition. She saw Bella Swan die in the school parking lot. Alice saw Bella crushed by a van." The fiend inside me moaned; aroused by the concentrated human scents in the hospital air, it recalled the potent smell of Bella's blood .

"Tell me what transpired." Carlisle prompted, finally turning to look cautiously at me.

His deliberate words caused me to slow down; I continued, "I saw Alice's vision as the sequence of events began to take place. The vision began to change, but I stopped watching. I don't know what happened. When I heard the van, I looked at Bella. Our eyes locked and I couldn't stop myself. I didn't want to stop myself." Describing the tragedies that had taken place to my father was difficult.

"What did you do, Edward?" Worry lined Carlisle's face.

"I sprinted across the parking lot," I confessed.

Carlisle's eyes widened, but his mind did not betray an accusatory thought. Go on_._

"When I grabbed Bella, I...I lost my footing and we fell to the pavement."

Carlisle raised an eyebrow and he momentarily recalled watching me pursue a mountain lion up a steep rock face. I would have to talk to him about what had happened to _me_ during the incident, but this wasn't the time.

"The van didn't hit her; I did." Force equals mass times acceleration. I did the math and dropped my eyes to the floor in shame, drawing an unnecessary breath. "I knocked her to the ground."

"So you removed her from danger," Carlisle stated flatly. _Protecting your prey from another predator? _

His theory stung. "Not exactly," I said, feeling defeated. My answer could have applied to either the statement or the question. "I wasn't careful. _I_ hurt her."

"Edward, I can deal with her injuries," Carlisle consoled. "Tell me what you observed."

"Bella vomited and lost consciousness in the ambulance. She had been talking, at first. Her breathing was a little shallow. There is a contusion on the left side of her head, just above the pterion region. No ecchymosis. No external leakage of... fluids." Focusing on my observations about her condition helped steady me. Carlisle was probably counting on that.

I hesitated. "She was understandably anxious. A little irritable." I wished I didn't have to tell Carlisle that she had been confrontational, but my sisters and brothers had no doubt heard our argument and would relate the information to Carlisle later.

I had seen her eyes flash with anger when the EMT had placed a brace around her fragile neck. She wanted to protest, I could see. As did I, evidently, recalling my own irritation when the device blocked my view of the almost imperceptible movement of her skin above the carotid artery.

"Bella's heart beat was fast, but it fell into a more normal rhythm when she was given oxygen. The EMT noted her blood pressure was a little low, too," I added.

"Son, head injuries should be taken seriously. You know that. You also know that she's going to get the best care I can give her here, and if that is not enough, I will transfer her to Seattle or Portland." Carlisle studied my face. "Edward, is there anything else that I should be concerned with?"

I knew he wasn't inquiring about Bella's previous medical history. He wanted to know how great the risk of our family's exposure was. I breathed deeply and wished that I could feel the calming relief that such a breath might give a human.

"No one really noticed Bella before the accident. The van's driver accepted the explanation that I had been standing next to her, even though it was likely that he heard Bella arguing with me."

"Arguing? You argued with the girl?" _Even a casual interaction with us triggers the human instinct for self-protection, _Carlisle thought. _Certainly that response would surface in a stressful encounter_. _Fight or flight._ _Apparently, this one's got fight._

I ignored Carlisle's unvoiced opinion. "Bella was looking at me when I... reacted. She wanted to know how I apparently materialized at her side; I tried to persuade her that she was confused, but she was unmoved. Bella got quiet..." I intentionally neglected to tell him that Bella had relaxed completely against me, but I saw him register a change in my expression when the memory of having had her seek my comfort squeezed my chest.

"...the way she watched me..." I shook my head. "She allowed me to give the ambulance attendants my story and she didn't contradict me, but she stared at me hard, like she was reminding me that she knew the truth."

Carlisle nodded. "She might not retain any memory of what happened to her today."

"I don't know; I can't read her mind. It's closed to me," I said, reminding him of the phenomenon that had garnered my attention, even before the unbearable lure of Bella's scent thoroughly disrupted my existence.

Carlisle paused while he considered my words. He found it fascinating that a human would be immune to my mind reading ability, but he sensed my fear. "Edward, we'll talk again after I've had a chance to examine Bella," he said as he reached into his pockets, seeking heat from the small, chemical packets he used to camouflage the cool temperature of his skin.

I followed Carlisle to the hospital emergency department. He stopped in front of the employee's lounge. "Perhaps you should wait here," he suggested. _Or you could go up to my office if... things prove too enticing_. He scanned a cart filled with bandages and noted an empty container marked "Bio-Hazard". I admired Carlisle's control over the bloodlust. He worked daily among the humans scarcely aware of the numerous triggers around him.

The ambulance driver pushed a stretcher past us. "Dr. Cullen. Your son was lucky. Not a scratch on him." The man glanced nervously at me and then paused in front of an exam room, reaching for the hand sanitizer.

Carlisle watched the man wring the solution through his hands. "Yes, well, I'm going to keep him close anyway," he assured the man. My father's countenance was so benign that humans rejected any dread of him. With a slight smile, Carlisle motioned me toward the lounge door. "Son?" It would not seem strange that I waited for my father there.

I entered the room slowly assessing its suitability for my needs. My primary need being to be left alone. The lack of a window was disappointing. Humans could spend significant amounts of time staring out windows without moving. Engaging in such an activity would justify my stillness and perhaps the appearance that I was occupied would discourage anyone from communicating with me directly. Today, I would rely on my iPod to provide an excuse for ignoring people entering the room; I pushed the earphones into my ears and settled into a chair in the corner with matters more urgent than small talk to address.

First, I wanted to monitor Bella's diagnosis and treatment. Forks General Hospital was small; but it served a diverse population from the town and surrounding county, and it was fully equipped to deal with most of the medical needs of the communuity. The physician, who conducted Bella's initial examination, ordered a CT exam, X-rays and lab work. The foremost worry was a head injury that might require surgery, although there were other conditions that could account for Bella's failure to regain consciousness.

The doctor had scanned Bella's hospital files, noting that her birth and delivery had been normal. I knew that until a few years ago, Bella had spent a month every summer here in Forks. The records showed that Bella managed to make a visit to the emergency room for cuts and sprains an annual event as well. Nothing too serious. Nothing requiring hospitalization.

I anxiously listened as the doctor spoke to Carlisle. He occasionally nodded and jotted notes onto a chart. Bella lay on the examining table beside them. Carlisle's co-worker was getting ready to leave the room and I would have to find another way of observing Bella. Although I knew monitoring Carlisle's thoughts would provide me with additional information, it would make Carlisle uncomfortable; he considered guarding his patients' rights part of his ethical obligation to them. As much as I wanted to listen to Carlisle's mind and as much as I wanted to look at Bella through his eyes, intruding upon her privacy in this way seemed shameful.

Fortuitously, Chief Swan and a nurse walked through the exam room door as I debated. I continued my observations through the mind of the nurse, wincing when she checked the needle that had been placed in Bella's pale slender arm near her wrist. Bella seemed even more breakable in the thin hospital gown.

"Chief Swan," the ER doctor said. ""I'm going to check on a few things. I'll be back soon. You know ," the woman stated, motioning toward my father as she left the room.

"Yes," Chief Swan replied with a single downward nod. "We've worked together before."

His mind was more quiet than most human, but not silent. Not like Bella. The man absorbed everything and processed it somewhere below the surface. Generally, he projected the direction and tone of his thought rather than their substance. The bits of concrete internal dialog that I captured were anxious and laden with emotion.

"Charlie, I know this is difficult for you. When we get all her tests back, we'll know more. Is there any medical history that hasn't been noted in her records? A family history of diabetes perhaps? A recent head injury?"

"Bella's never had anything serious. The family history is in the record here." Charlie Swan exhaled loudly. "She's a little uncoordinated, but I don't think she's hit her head recently." He recalled the summer he replaced the original sliding shower door with safety glass after Bella slipped in the tub.

"Is Bella taking any medication? Supplements?" Carlisle spoke casually, knowing that the father of a seventeen-year-old girl, particularly one who only recently began living with him, might find not be fully apprised of such information. Contacting the mother would be helpful. "Have you been able to reach Bella's mother?"

"Bella isn't taking medicine. She never complains. I don't think I've seen her even take an aspirin since she got here." Bella's father was staring at her hand where a small bruise was beginning to spread. "I left a message for her mother. Renee remarried awhile back and moved to Florida about the time Bella came out to stay with me."

The nurse, who had walked in the room with the Chief, checked Bella's intravenous drip and her blood pressure monitor before glancing at the men in the room. She liked working with my father. _So good with the patients and their families_, she thought. _So attractive_. _And very married._ Esme's face passed through the woman's mind.

"You understand that, at this point, we can't be sure why Bella is still unconscious."

"So the bump on her head isn't keeping her like this?" Charlie Swan asked.

"She has a small contusion on the side of her head. A contusion is an area where the capillaries have been damaged allowing blood to seep into the surrounding tissue forming pocket of blood. The size of a hematoma doesn't necessarily indicate the seriousness, or even existence of any internal damage to the structure of the brain. Bella's continued unconsciousness is the greater concern. Carlisle pointed to the x-ray clipped to the lit view box on the wall. "Charlie, we don't see any signs of a fracture and her vital signs are stable. Her pupils are equal and reactive. That's important; observing pupillary responses are one of the most important signs that we monitor in patients with head injuries. At the least, Bella has suffered a concussion."

Charlie Swan shifted his weight uncomfortably, as if he was struggling to balance the urge to process the information emotionally with the need to consider the situation analytically.

"Concussions can cause a loss of consciousness and sometimes result in extended periods of diminished responsiveness, particularly if someone has a history of previous head injuries." Carlisle paced his delivery of the information, pausing when Charlie appeared confused or uncomfortable.

I suspected that Carlisle had seen something on Bella x-ray, an old fracture perhaps, since he had raised the question of previous head injuries again. I was tempted to listen to his thoughts, but resisted. Maybe Carlisle was waiting to get the CT exam results to further explore the issue or maybe he wanted to talk to Bella's mother. Carlisle had once mentioned how difficult dealing with divorced parents could be.

The Chief pulled at the collar of his shirt. "Bella's had a lot of falls and scrapes, but as far as I know, she's never hit her head hard enough to get knocked out."

"A concussion temporarily interferes with normal brain function. Not everyone will lose consciousness, so many times people don't know they've been hurt," Carlisle said softly. "Children don't communicate that they are in pain or feel bad as clearly as adults do, so a parent might not know a child has suffered a head injury."

Charlie Swan reached and brushed Bella's hair away from her face. "She's never been one to complain about anything."

The nurse was folding Bella's clothes. Simple and soft.

"Most concussions are mild and people heal without any long-term effects," Carlisle noted. "Repeated concussions can cause problems, though."

Bella's father looked up. "Like the problems some boxers have," he interjected.

"Exactly. Brain tissue is soft, similar to gelatin. The brain is surrounded by cerebrospinal fluid. The fluid protects the brain. A blow to the head can cause the brain to collide with the inside of the skull, resulting in bleeding and tearing," Carlisle said cautiously. "The CT should show us if there is any bleeding or edema."

Charlie Swan stared at Carlisle. "Will Bella need surgery?"

"It's a possibility. We can give her diuretics to reduce the pressure from swelling." Carlisle's voice was soothing. "Surgery is indicated if...

I couldn't listen anymore. I knew what Carlisle was going to say.

* * *

_Disclaimer:__ The world of Twilight belongs to the wonderful Stephenie Meyer. I just want to play with her toys. Limited dialog and text from the Twilight saga appear within the following text. No copyright infringement is intended._

**In the next chapter . . .**

"Charlie, I don't like it," Billy Black almost screamed. "You can't leave Bella here with that doctor and his so-called kids running around. It's not safe."

"Billy, we've known each other a long time and I've never known you to be prejudiced, but ever since that family moved here, you've had an attitude," Charlie said. "If you have evidence that the Cullens are a danger to Bella and a danger to our community, let's hear it. Otherwise, butt out."

Billy stared at Charlie. "That's right, we have known each other a long time. Long enough for you to trust me on this when I tell you that you cannot trust them!"

Charlie shook his head. "The boy here saved Bella's life. If he hadn't pushed away from that van, she'd be dead now."

"Okay, I can see you aren't going to listen to me on this, but I'm gonna tell you something And you too Cullen. I'm keeping my eye on Bella and I'm gonna be here everyday checking on her."

* * *

*Everyone can make a difference in their community by learning first aid, CPR and disaster preparedness. Contact your local Red Cross, the American Heart Association, or a volunteer fire and rescue group to find out how you can volunteer.*


	3. Bedside Vigil

_Disclaimer:__ The world of Twilight belongs to the wonderful Stephenie Meyer. I just want to play with her toys. Limited dialogue and text from the Twilight sage appear within the following text. No copyright infringement is intended._

**Persephone's Sister: Chapter 2 - Bedside Vigil**

I continued to watch Bella through the minds of the doctors, nurses and technicians that entered the exam room where she lay. She could have been sleeping, but she wasn't. Bella pulled her lips slightly upward like she knew that we were watching her.

The monster taunted me, disgusted by the waste; he lamented while the foreigner celebrated, and I pined for the girl's secrets. My Mona Lisa was so intent upon keeping her secrets hidden that she retreated from the conscious world. Thus thwarted, I vacillated between my anger and hatred for the disturbance she wrought and my guilt. How dare she? Didn't she see the chivalry and mercy in my resistance to the lure of her scent, an aroma so potent that I collapsed in upon myself, all instincts, thoughts and feelings compressed into the pit of my stomach. Who was this girl? Surely she was not completely human. How could an aberrant like me ever be as thoroughly vexed by an ordinary human, even one as beautiful as my Bella.

_My_ Bella? Was I staking a claim? What gave me this right? My experience gave me no guide to evaluating and answering the questions that filled my tortured rumination.

The monster shook me again. _She is dying_, he said. _Take her_. The alien, who had revealed his compassion for the girl to be as great as the fiend's desire to kill, warred against a deadly outcome. _Save he_r, the gentle soldier cried. I clung helplessly to the realities between them: I am an abomination and she, a mortal girl. Despite my rejection of humans as sustenance, she is prey and I am a predator, and I hurt her.

Bella scored a dismal seven out of fifteen on the Glasgow Coma Scale, the commonly accepted method for measuring or quantifying the severity of a coma. The scale evaluates three areas: motor response; the level of stimulus required to induce a patient to open her eyes; and verbal response. In response to painful stimuli, Bella attempted to pull away; and she opened her eyes, but she made no sound. I was relieved that Bella presented no posturing, the involuntary inward curling of the limbs toward the body, but she could not be roused and produced no other visible reactions to verbal or physical stimuli. The slight curve of her lips was entirely the product of my imagination.

I had listened to the minds of comatose patients on several occasions at Carlisle's request. Usually their waking thoughts were confused; but sometimes I found the patient in a dream-like state, filtering endless bits of information and rearranging them into concrete images. Mostly, the dreaming was pleasant; however, from time to time, the visions were violent and frightening, even to me, a monster.

Once I listened for the mind of a young woman who had been in a persistent vegetative state for several months. Her doctors and her family had decided to remove her feeding tube, hastening her physical death. I sensed nothing from her. Nothing. Just like Bella. The difference was that even before my careless handling of Bella, I had not been able to hear her thoughts. I had never before encountered anyone like Bella. Bella's arrival in Forks marked the end of the static existence that I had known.

Until a few weeks ago, my daytime hours and thoughts were consumed with playing whatever role that the alternate lifestyle my family embraced dictated. Unlike most others of our kind, we maintained a semi-permanent residence, moving only when it became obvious that we never aged and the facade we created could no longer be supported or when a human grew too suspicious.

The public face that our family projected usually revolved around my father's job and his devotion to the study of medicine. My mother played the part of the devoted stay-at-home mother, freeing her to focus on providing or arranging the procurement of the physical and emotional necessities our family required.

Like everyone at Forks High School, the place where my siblings and I masqueraded as students, I heard the anticipation of severteen-year-old Isabella Swan's matriculation long before she arrived. Miss Swan was the product of the town police chief's marriage to an outsider. Their marriage was unexpected and quick, and the divorce that followed, equally sudden. The woman, who found life in our own sleepy hollow, nestled in the temperate rain forest of the Olympic Peninsula, utterly boring, fled with the child only a few months after the birth.

Some of the adults in the community whispered that Charlie Swan had never gotten over the 'flighty' wife. Despite the apparent weakness, Charlie Swan was well-known and respected in the community. Charlie had cared for his ailing parents until their deaths and stayed on in Forks, content in his work and hobbies. As far as anyone in Forks knew, the girl was Charlie Swan's only kin.

Although Isabella - Bella, as she preferred to be known - had visited Forks throughout her youth and into her early teen years, no one seemed to know her. The gossipy students at the high school assumed Bella might have friends on the Quileute Reservation, because her father spent a significant number of his off-duty hours in the company of Billy Black, a member of the Quileute tribe. Or perhaps, Bella had made the acquaintance of other summer visitors. Regardless, during the years when Bella would have required a caretaker, whatever childcare arrangements made for her did not result in the formation of any memorable friendships with any of the children in Forks.

The other students appraised Bella guardedly. The males fixated upon her appearance, while most of the girl's evaluated Miss Swan in terms of the impact she would have upon the 'herd' of desirable potential dates and romantic liaisons. Generally, the humans considered her unusually clumsy, but more or less average in other ways. Naturally, they evaluated Bella in terms of their own dull life experiences and perceptions.

The _word_ on Bella, as the students put it, was that she didn't get along with her mother's new husband, but they were wrong. Bella was very mature and kind for her age. I had learned that her decision to return to Forks and complete high school was a gift she gave to the mother who longed to travel with a new spouse, a minor league baseball player. Bella had related these details to me in the first conversation I ever had with her, when I was preoccupied with the burning thirst her presence created and my sincere desire to replace Bella's memory of my abhorrent behavior in our initial encounter.

Bella was intelligent and had been placed in classes with students who were pursuing strong academic programs. Her placement in our shared Biology class, seated next to a me, was extremely poor luck for her, depending on the point of view. Forks High School was small; doubtless, I would have run into Bella in a hall or stairwell, so it had been good luck that the presence of witnesses in the class made me pause to consider how best the monster could kill them and then enjoy the divine taste of Bella's blood.

We smelled her when she walked into the room. The firestorm that Bella ignited raged through my hardened veins and scorched my parched throat. The desire to quench the bloodthirst was unparalleled to anything I had experienced in my entire existence. The monster could scarcely be contained; our joy and the anticipation of the feast carried my will away. My reaction to the odor and the fiend's licentious regard for the mores of the covenant to which I was bound, nearly exposed not only myself, for the inhuman creature that I am, but my family, as well. I fought against the urge to inhale throughout class and then ran to my car, where I weighed strategic considerations and the effects of killing the girl elsewhere.

In the end, I kept running. The debate could not be settled and I truly mourned the loss of control, so the only responsible and mindful answer for everyone - my family, Bella Swan, her family, and myself - was to leave Forks. I fled to Alaska and the compound maintained by another group who rejected humans as a food source. There, I spent hours walking through the snow, looking for meaning and a resolution that spared further injury to all. Gradually, the new voice in my head encouraged a raging curiosity about Bella's silent mind and expressive eyes. The cravings that the brute and I shared were augmented by the hunger for Bella's secrets.

Bella should have been just another human to ignore; that was something I usually did very well: push the temptation of human beings away. My family and I were different from most others of our kind. Instead of satisfying our hungers by feeding on the species from which we had been transformed, we gorged ourselves on the wild creatures that inhabited a lesser place on the food chain, preferring carnivores and omnivores to herbivores, of course. It was the abundance of those animals and the relative absence of humans that led us to our current home.

The thought of home and the awareness that Charlie Swan was speaking to his ex-wife on the phone in the room into which Bella been moved, reminded me that I should call my mother. My sister, Alice, answered the phone.

"What's happening?" she asked quietly. Her lowered voice could only signal that she was having a private conversation, but she knew that the extraordinarily keen sense of hearing that people like us developed truly afforded her no privacy. Coming through the cell phone, my voice was well-within auditory range of anyone in my home.

"Carlisle said that Bella's primary injury was a concussion. Her secondary injury, exacerbated by previous brain injuries, was cerebral swelling. He said that the CT showed no evidence of arterial hemorrhage or a laceration," I related.

The weather had conspired to make transporting Bella by air or ground ambulance extremely hazardous; since it seemed likely that her injuries could be treated with corticosteroids, diuretics, intravenous fluids and a feeding tube, Charlie had yielded to the recommendation to wait at least until the next morning before moving Bella to a Seattle hospital.

Alice listened without interrupting or offering an opinion, unlike my sister, Rosalie. "Humans die, Edward," she said. Graduating from medical school twice had not gifted Rosalie with empathy, nor the inclination to adhere to social norms that dictated that we refrain from inserting ourselves into conversations of which we were not a part. "You shouldn't have interfered in the first place."

"Tell Rosalie she is not invited to participate in this discussion," I told Alice.

"I heard that," Rosalie snarled. "I don't recall being _invited_ to participate in your little 'save the human' campaign - none of us were - but here we are anyway, paying for your mistakes." Rosalie was angry.

The snarling drew my mother into the conversation. "Rose," Esme scolded. "Now is not the time. Carlisle and Edward will be home soon." Esme wasn't going to let my actions go without making sure that I understood my family's concerns. "Everyone will get an opportunity to voice his or her opinion at that time." I could hear Esme's footsteps receding from the room.

"Alice, tell Edward to come home now," Rosalie whined.

"Rose," Emmett cautioned. "You'll get a chance to talk. Don't upset Esme."

"You're not the boss of me," Rosalie snapped at Emmett.

"Aw, come on sweetheart. Let's take a walk until Carlisle holds court." Although Rosalie was quick to shift her anger toward her mate, he never took it personally and always had a way of soothing Rosalie's fury.

"Edward... relax" Alice began. It was only then I realized that I had been growling softly.

"I know, Alice." The tension would be much greater when I could hear the unspoken thoughts of my siblings, in addition to the feelings and ideas they verbally expressed. My ability to read minds was limited by distance and for the moment I was grateful that there was several miles between Rosalie and myself.

"Do you want me to come and get you?" Alice asked.

"No, I'll wait and drive back with Carlisle," I told Alice. "We weren't able to freely discuss the situation at the hospital, so I'd like to talk to him alone, before we get home." Technically, running home would have been faster than driving, since we could take the most direct route, avoiding human observation without effort. But Carlisle enjoyed his car and was a stickler for maintaining the appearance of human normalcy; even under the circumstances, Carlisle would enjoy the opportunity to escort one of his sons through the hospital and home in his car.

"Edward, I don't think it is safe for you to be in her room," Alice warned. "You should wait for Carlisle in his office."

"What have you seen?" I hesitated to ask. Besides, I wasn't even in Bella's room.

"The vision hasn't changed, Edward. Either you will kill her or...you'll... Don't go to her room."

"I don't want to kill her... I'm not...going to let anything else happen to her either." Alice's premonitions were not fixed; future outcomes depended upon many things.

Alice stopped me. "Edward, you are underestimating how upset Jasper and Rosalie are right now," she whispered. "They would applaud you for killing Bella, but they don't trust you to do anything without placing the family in further danger of being exposed."

"What do you mean?" My unease increased.

"I'm not sure that you realize the depth of your... feelings." Alice evaded my question. "Are you sure that you don't want me to come and get you so we can talk?"

"I'm certain."

"Then, I should find Jasper," Alice decided. "I would like to tell him how I feel about what has happened."

"Alice, you're starting to sound like Rosalie," I barked. "What I did wasn't about you or Jazz or Rosalie or anyone else. Protecting Bella was - is - much more personal than..."

"More personal than protecting your family, Edward?" Alice finished my sentence.

"No, of course, not," I said, but even I didn't understand the point I was trying to make. "I feel like protecting her is my job. My responsibility." The newcomer inside me agreed_._

"Edward, listen to yourself," Alice implored. "Think about what you are saying. You are proving that you are not consciously aware of your own feelings. How do you think Rosalie will handle hearing what you said? Our family tete-a-tete will not go well if you are not honest with yourself."

"Please Alice," I begged. The foreigner was adamant, my duty to take care of Bella was paramount. After a long pause, during which I assumed Alice was sifting through the possible outcomes of my latest decisions, I asked, "Can I speak to Esme?"

Esme did not come to the phone right away. The delay worried me. Was she angry with me? Although I actively sought my father's approval and support, and I knew his love for me was unconditional, it was Esme's pure devotion and love that I feared tarnishing. I already felt unworthy of her esteem and affection.

Years ago, I had gone through a period of rebellion and rejected the customs of my parents' life, feeding on humans I deemed unworthy of life. Eventually the burdens I collected in my self-righteous and judgmental quest to justify the murders, crushed my insurrection. I failed to consider the impact of the course of my actions on Esme and Carlisle, whom I had dishonored, but they accepted me back without question. Unable to vanquish the monster inside of me, I returned to my family knowing the criminals I had sought were no worse than I.

"Hello, Edward, sweetheart," Esme murmured. Her endearment was comforting. Hurting Esme would be almost as painful as injuring Bella had proven to be.

"I wanted to let you know I have not forgotten that I promised to hunt with you this weekend." Carlisle would be on call at the hospital, so I had volunteered to escort Esme to an area experiencing a sudden increase in the black-tail deer population. The sizable increase caused Fish and Game authorities to consider permitting human hunters into a normally restricted area, which abutted a region where we hunted frequently. Esme's research determined that recent mild winters allowed more deer to reach maturity than otherwise might have normally survived; and it would be necessary to cull the herd in order to prevent human intervention.

If Esme's research had revealed that our hunting activities had removed too many animals that preyed upon the overly-plentiful herbivores, she would have created her own version of an Endangered Species Bulletin, prohibiting their consumption. Realistically, Esme's efficient monitoring of local wildlife and occasional intervention assured that the family's dietary needs could always be met and that chances for encounters with tempting Homo sapiens were rare. Esme would not risk our being in such close proximity to humans when we shed our civilized veneer, allowing our raptorial instincts to rule us. Even the mother of monsters set her dining room table with care.

Eventually Chief Swan returned to the emergency room where a fourth-year medical student was closing the small laceration on Tyler Crowley's head with a butterfly bandage. "You want to tell me what you think you were doing driving like you were on a logging road instead of in a parking lot?"

Crowley pulled his head down toward his chest. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to hurt Bella," the boy mumbled.

"You better hope Bella is okay. The county prosecutor is prepared to charge you with manslaughter, if something happens to her," Charlie's voice was stern. "I've already cited you for reckless driving and you better hope to God your blood alcohol test comes back clean."

"I wasn't drinking," Crowley claimed.

"Maybe not this morning, but alcohol stays in your system for hours and the empty beer cans in the back of the van tell me you were drinking last night," Charlie voice was ominous. "Either you drank a six-pack alone or you had help. Doesn't matter; you're underage and if your test results are anything more than zero-point-zero, I'm charging you. You'll be lucky to get your license back before you're twenty-one."

"But Chief, I work at my parent's restaurant before and after school," Tyler looked bewildered. Crowley's parents walked in at that moment, so I knew the police chief would be busy for a little while.

"You work just enough to pay for beer and gas for the van that your parents bought for you," Bella's father barked.

The teen's carelessness effected many people, but I could not in good conscious allow him to shoulder the responsibility for Bella's condition. As soon as I prevented Crowley's van from killing Bella, her safety was in my hands. My unawareness and the arrogance had caused Bella's injuries, and it was more complicated than, as Alice had said, unrecognized feelings. I had never felt more confused and was completely aware the discombobulated state that I currently inhabited was unfathomable.

How would I ever admit this to my family? If I could not identify the feeling that generated a strange twisting in my stomach and directed almost every thought toward the girl, how could I explain anything to them? I lied to myself when I said that I had held my breath when Bella's scent screamed for consumption. Although I had little control over the beast that begged for dominion over Bella's life, and I had even less command of Bella's champion. She had a pact with the stranger who yearned for her attention and her secrets, and Bella had merely to look in our direction for her knight to kick the air from my lungs.

I was forced to acknowledge that I had no ability to fight her lure, in whatever form it was starting to take, when I withdrew my attention from the emergency room and found myself yet again on my knees beside Bella Swan. I did not remember how I got there and could only hope that I had not traversed the path between the emergency room employee's lounge and Bella's room in a manner that invited exposure. Rosalie and Jasper were right: I could no longer be trusted to act responsibly. Alice had warned me to stay out of Bella's room; I fervently prayed Alice was wrong.

Someone had pulled Bella's long, dark hair away from her face and tied it loosely with a bit of gauze, accentuating the length and slenderness of her neck. The fiend inhaled deeply. His action re-ignited the wildfire in my throat. Venom filled my mouth and pooled around my tongue, and a tightness I had never known gripped my torso. _I want her. I want her_, the monster moaned. I knew on one level that he thirsted for her blood, but I sensed that another latent hunger stirred within the beast. I was afraid. My quaking wakened the foreigner, whose inattentiveness had apparently allowed the beast to drag me to her room.

_Shh!_ The gentle voice urged. _Don't frighten her. _Did I groan aloud? A fair body of research existed that showed people in a coma could hear and engage in cognitive activities. Would she hear me for the monster that I was?

I felt a stab of desperation for her again for the beast and the stranger were pulling my arms. But instead of tugging me in opposite directions, they were both urging me closer to the quiet young woman. I stood and leaned over her. The fiend sat back, content to watch for the time being, while the foreigner whispered instructions in my ear. I stroked her hand with my fingers and bent to her ear.

"Bella, please hear me...I need you...I need you to wake up for me, Bella...please?" If I could have produced tears, they would have covered my face. Her heart beat pounded inside _my _chest triggering a spasm of pain with the memory of my agonized transformation. I continued to rub her hand and whisper to her. Not knowing what to say, I repeated the words I had said when I recovered my senses and returned to Forks High School seeking her amity.

**"Hello. My name is Edward Cullen. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself... You must be Bella Swan." **

_You are the most fascinating creature I have ever seen. _Of course, I had not said that when I had conversed with her the first time, but I wanted to do so.

I looked at the hand I stroked gently and willed that it would move. During that first conversation, I had caught her hand in mine without thinking and she had jerked away. Even though the memory of her negative reaction was painful, I would endure such a response again gladly.

**"You don't like the cold."**

I stopped all movement and the heat from her satin-covered hand spread into my fingertips...and her little finger extended in response. Not in a way that suggested she wanted relief from my nearness. Instead, I imagined that she was beckoning me to continue.

**"You put on a good show," I said slowly. "but I'd be willing to bet that you're suffering more than you let anyone see."**

**"Life isn't fair,"** she'd told me.

I resumed stroking her hand and hovered over her until I was just inches from her mouth, looking for the hint of the smile that I had imagined when I saw her in the minds of others. I heard the door opening and froze.

"What the hell are you doing?" Billy Black yelled.

I backed up slowly without taking my eyes off Bella, concerned that she would be disturbed by the outburst. "Nothing," I said sofly. "Just..." I couldn't find the words to explain my actions.

His mind was a fury of accusations and threats. Had his movement not been confined to the wheelchair, I was certain he would have attacked me. Seeing that my continued observation of the girl inflamed his anger, I carefully turned toward him. Black's son, stood behind the wheelchair, one hand on the door frame as if he wanted to run.

"Get out! Get out!" Black shouted. "Jacob, go get Charlie. Now!

The boy took two steps backward then turned and ran down the hall. I would have followed him out into the hall, but Black had the doorway blocked, and I feared that in his anger, he would launch himself at me if I got too close to him. I slipped past the end of Bella's bed and maneuvered into the corner between a table and the outer wall.

"I know, Cullen. I know you shouldn't be here. You don't belong here and I think you better leave before..."

Bella reacted to the sound... and opened her eyes. "Bella, Bella?" I stepped back toward her bed. I knew she would not respond, there had not been enough time for the medications to have reduced the swelling within her skull. My sadness was profound. The depth of it so absorbed my thoughts that I didn't see Black was struggling to rise from his wheelchair until Charlie entered the room with Jacob. I retreated to my corner.

"Billy, for Pete's sake, what are you doing?"

"Charlie, I don't like it," Black almost screamed. "You can't leave Bella here with that doctor and his so-called kids running around. It's not safe."

"Billy, we've known each other a long time and I've never known you to be prejudice, but ever since that family moved here, you've had an attitude," Charlie said. "If you have evidence that the Cullens are a danger to Bella and a danger to our community, let's hear it. Otherwise, butt out."

Billy stared at Charlie. "That's right, we have known each other a long time. Long enough for you to trust me on this when I tell you that you cannot trust them!"

Charlie shook his head. "The boy here saved Bella's life. If he hadn't pushed her away from that van, she'd be dead now."

"Okay, I can see you aren't going to listen to me, but I'm gonna tell you something - and you too Cullen: I'm keeping my eye on Bella and I'm gonna be here everyday checking on her."

Billy propelled his wheelchair closer to me and glared up into my face. His imagination was so vivid that I could almost hear the crackle and hiss of the fire as it consumed my dismembered corpse. I had been warned.

* * *

In the next chapter: Edward faces his family at home.


	4. Inquisition

Persephone's Sister: Chapter 3 - Inquisition

A nurse, hearing the commotion, walked in just as Black moved up against the opposite wall. "Shush, you two! You both know better," the woman chastised the men. "Jacob, go on into the hall. Your dad will be out in a minute." It was obvious the nurse knew the Blacks and Charlie Swan. Her appearance hinted that she might be Indian; perhaps she was from La Push.

She stared at me for a few seconds before she spoke. "You're Dr. Cullen's son."

"Yes, ma'am," I dropped my eyes to the floor, hoping politeness and the gesture showed I understood that in a hospital nurses held all the power.

"Sue, he shouldn't be here," Black complained.

"And you shouldn't be either," she retorted. "In fact, I thought you and most of the elders were boycotting the hospital these days."

"Yeah, well... Sue, I know you're trying to feed a family, but you know why we don't come here."

"He doesn't come here because he's a stubborn old goat," Charlie grunted.

"Charlie, you both need to think about Bella. All this arguing is upsetting her." The nurse checked Bella's blood pressure cuff and cardiac monitor before she looked at me again. "Son, you should go find your father."

I wasn't certain if I had ever felt as trapped and conflicted as I did at that moment. On one hand, I did not want to be the cause of any conflict that would impact Bella adversely; and on the other hand, tearing myself away from her side, while the monster and stranger in me lobbied to stay, was almost impossible. Painfully, I attempted to acquiesce, slipping past Billy Black.

"Thank you for taking care of Bella and riding to the hospital with her." Bella's father looked at me with gratitude. Not since my transformation, had a human ever looked at _me_ with the sincerity I saw on his face; I knew I wanted to hold his esteem.

The monster seized the opportunity to consider how the the good opinion of the father might increase his access to Bella. I tried to ignore his scheming, comforted by the stranger in my head, who reminded the beast that no good could come from breaking the girl's body.

"Chief Swan, I just wanted to say that I'm very sorry Bella was injured," I risked another glance at Bella.

"You're sorry, alright," Black spat.

I whirled to face the man, certain that he would see the monster peering at him from my eyes. "You're an unnecessary complication," I snarled. I regretted my brash commentary even though I sensed the amusement in Charlie's mind; my foolish display of anger would not tarnish my effort to impress him.

"Uh . . . kid?"

"Edward. Edward Cullen, sir," I said, turning to offer a slight, careful smile. Timidity was the look I was going for.

_Think of me._ The foreigner bounced forward. _He is not timid_, the monster hissed with disdain. _Gentle, perhaps. _It was fortunate that both phantoms were bound tightly, so that their banter and my helpless musings remained unspoken.

"You'll never know how much I appreciate what you did for Bella, Edward. I'm glad to know that she's made at least one friend."

The nurse, whom Black had called Sue, stepped toward us, her arms folding across her chest. Sue Clearwater, her identification badge read. I didn't want to force Sue Clearwater to tell me to leave a second time.

The fiend and the stranger shouted in unison, _Don't!_

"The privilege is mine, sir. And thank you for allowing me to check on Bella." I hadn't asked anyone's permission, but I hoped saying it had been so would facilitate my return. I exited the room quickly to find my father standing in the hallway.

"Carlisle," I said, wondering if he had been disappointed that I had not followed his instructions to stay in the employees' lounge or wait in his office.

"You're having some difficulty dealing with the other visitors it seems," Carlisle noted, raising an eyebrow. _And your impulses?_

Jacob Black was leaning on a the nurse's station counter a few feet away. He eyed us suspiciously; but he kept quiet, even when I narrowed my eyes and returned the stare, challenging the Quileute boy to speak.

Carlisle cleared his throat, silently rebuking me for my behavior. "Now that the school day has ended, the visitor's waiting rooms seems to be filled with students from your high school. Maybe you would like to join your classmates?" _To see if your rescue has aroused suspicion_, he continued silently. _Unless, you fear becoming involved in another . . . altercation?_

I was alarmed by Carlisle's questions. Was the civil war between my monstrous inclination, the man I yearned to be and the infatuated foreigner so obvious? Carlisle reached to cup my upper arm; then slid his hand down to my elbow lightly. When I was a newborn, he touched me in such a manner when he sensed I was struggling to resist feeding on humans, and or I had become overwhelmed by the tumult of their thoughts. The contact helped me focus and it reminded me that Carlisle would never let me face adversity alone.

Of course, his hand could also have been used in an attempt to restrain me, if that were required.

I turned and walked down the hall; Carlisle followed. His breathing was slow and deep; wholly unnecessary, yet so much a part of his public persona. I listened to the sound of his breath and thought of Bella. Her breath slow and shallow; wholly necessary to sustain her life.

_Bella_, my stranger breathed.

As I approached the lobby of the hospital, Carlisle stopped and turned back. _Wait here. _There was an uncharacteristic sternness in his mind.

I looked around, somewhat surprised to see that a significant number of students had gathered. I recognized them all, naturally, and I listened. A few leaned against empty walls and whispered. Some claimed to be Bella's best and closest friends, each too distraught to remain away. Others, disturbed by the nearness of the tragedy, sought confirmation that death and mortality would not come nearer than their sheltered literature classes where romanticized visions held no terror. _O happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.*_ Still a few were drawn to the blackness and finality which almost befell the girl. They boasted of reading signs and cosmic connections. I almost laughed; despite their preoccupation with darkness, their instinct to avoid danger was intact, and they moved on when I settled into a chair near them. Everyone left me alone.

"I heard someone say they are only keeping her on life-support until her mother can get here," Lauren lied. She hadn't been anywhere near anyone talking about Bella's condition. She was too engrossed in plotting her weekend escape from Forks.

"You know Bella is from Arizona, right? But I don't think her mother lives there anymore." Defining a role for herself in the current drama, Jessica announced, "Bella is my best friend in the entire world."

"I thought I was your best friend," Lauren answered. Her thoughts concerning Bella were unkind. She projected a feeling of indifference to Bella's condition, relieved that Tyler Crowley could not possibly hold any interest in a girl who, in Lauren's opinion, would be maimed for life.

"Oh, you are my best, best friend. My best friend forever." Jessica proclaimed. Her face wore a sweeter-than-molasses smile that might have been stolen from a plastic doll. Made in China.

"Excuse me. Excuse me, everybody." Eric Yorkie stood on a chair in the center of the room. When the noise dropped off, Eric spoke again. "We've been talking about how people who are unconscious can sometimes hear things that are going on around them, so we want to try to help Bella by coming here and reading to her."

"We just really want her to know that we care and we want to encourage her to get better," Angela Weber offered, her voice drifting away softly to reveal her insecurity.

"Right, so give Mike your name and contact information, if can volunteer to help. We'll take the list to Mrs. Copley; someone will contact you as soon as the doctors say it is okay for Bella to have company."

Yorkie was a salesman. His attempt to play on the perverse curiosity of the other students bored me. The display reminded me of a performance I had seen in a small township decades before.

Then, I watched a man selling elixir at a carnival draw a crowd with promises of eternal youth, beauty and health. Hoping for such a miracle, several townsfolk departed and returned, bearing their infirm. One young couple carried a frail and sallow child. At the height of the festivities, while those with the means to pay gulped the noxious swill, the youngster collapsed and died. The crowd swarmed around the wailing parents and their child's tiny body, absorbing them. When the gleeful throng dispersed, it left no trace of the unfortunate family. The mob could have picked the child's bones clean as easily as it might have borne the body away for burial. Vultures.

The stranger shuddered at my thoughts; entertained by the moroseness of my memory, the fiend snaked a long tongue out past lips that couldn't contain his venom. Ignoring them - internal demons and human fodder alike - I stretched, reaching out to Bell's room.

Charlie was speaking to my father, "Doc . . ."

"Carlisle."

"Yes, well, Carlisle, you probably already know that my friend was pretty harsh with your boy." Charlie struggled to recall my name. "Edward."

"Not to worry. This is understandably stressful for everyone who knows and cares for you and Bella. Edward is old enough to know people will do and say things when they are under pressure that they do not necessarily mean or that they haven't really thought about."

_Old enough. Over a hundred._

"Doc, most people in Forks have taken to you in a way, but Billy . . . well, Billy . . ."

"Mr. Black is from La Push, and the Quileutes have there own ways of thinking about things. Not necessarily wrong. Just different."

"You're generous."

"I'm practical," Carlisle emphasized.

"Anyway, I don't want your boy, Edward, there, thinking that what he did today wasn't . . . "

Charlie was unable to speak, his mind filled with the image of a small girl gripping her legs to her chest, while he placed an adhesive bandage and a kiss on a tiny knee. The child struggled to hold back her tears. _Bella? _ The resemblance was strong, but . . . The smug, aged feeling I had fell away, replaced by the knowledge that virtually all my human memories of being a young child had vanished and that my lack of contact with children rendered me less capable of appreciating the worry and concern a parent has for his progeny.

"Edward saved Bella's life and I will always remember that. If there is ever anything I can do for the boy. Anything at all. . . "

My embarrassment, for harboring the fiend that was so ardently wanted to kill the man's child, was acute.

"Thank you, Charlie. I will relay your sentiments to my son."

Jessica Stanley's annoying voice interrupted my indirect observation. "Do you think we should donate blood?" Jessica asked Mike Newton, as she added her name to the rooster. She smiled and looked down at her chest, as she inhaled deeply.

The beast, alerted by the opportunity, thumped his tail. _Of course_, he answered. _Shhh!_ I closed my eyes. _ We wouldn't touch her if she was the last warm-blooded creature on Earth._

"Why would you?" Clueless, Mike made a face.

"That's a great idea, Jessica. Even if Bella doesn't need it, someone will," Angela remarked.

_Devil! _ Someone mentally shouted. For a moment I couldn't place the voice, and I looked over my left shoulder expecting to find Rosalie bellowing. Instead I saw, Jacob Black pushing his father through the lobby. They stopped near the entrance. I watched them huddle together speaking quietly.

"Jake, go over there and put your name on that list. It'll be a good way for you to help me keep an eye on Bella," Black instructed his son. "Let them know that you might have some friends that would also be interested in coming over to help out."

The boy glared at me and stalked into the center of the room.

"Hi. I'm Jacob Black. I live over on La Push."

"Oh sure, you come into my parents' store. Newton's Olympic Outfitters?"

"Yeah, I've been in there. Camping gear. Nice stuff," Jacob nodded.

"Thanks. What can I do for you?" Mike asked.

"My dad and Bella Swan's dad are friends and I've known Bella since we were little."

"Wow, really? I didn't know anyone 'round here remembered Bella from when she lived here, you know, before her parents split up." Mike liked the fact that no one seemed to remember that he'd moved to Forks from California anymore.

"Well, she moved when she was a baby, but she used to spend summers here. She really knows my sisters, Rachel and Rebecca," Jacob said, stealing a glance in my direction. "But I rebuilt the engine in the truck she drives."

"Sweet," Mike replied, eyeing Jacob with greater interest.

"Anyway, I want to volunteer to help."

"Hi. I'm Angela. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I think it's great. Maybe we'll find enough volunteers, so there are always two of us. That way if someone can't make it, there's still someone to entertain Bella for an hour or two everyday."

"You know she's not awake yet, don't you?" Jacob looked at me again and shook his head. "But my dad's planning to come and hang out some. He's kind of into sports, but I doubt Bella wants to hear about Billy Black's daily countdown to spring training."

Jessica was eyeing Jacob Black like she was some kind of predator and she was thinking about making a meal of him. It would have been laughable, if the situation wasn't so bleak.

"Don't be rude, Mike. Who's your friend?" she said coyly, winking at Angela.

Mike made a show of looking for Jacob Black's name on the sign-up sheet. "Jacob Black meet Jessica Stanley. Jessica. Jacob."

I wondered how the self-absorbed girl, who fancied herself the eye of the college boys who visited the area, would react when she realized she had set her sights on someone younger than herself.

"Jacob," his father yelled over the buzzing students. The man clenched his jaw and watched me.

It was time to leave; I hoped my father would understand.

Jacob Black did not. He had keeping an eye on me, too. When I began walking toward the main doors, where Jacob father waited, the boy fell in step behind me.

"Hey, Cullen."

I stopped and waited for him. The watchful father's anxiety showed; I knew Carlisle would not want me to antagonize the man by engaging the boy verbally. I hoped the distance would discourage the father from inserting himself into our conversation. I was also keenly aware that an altercation in the lobby would reflect poorly on my father and would capture the attention of the waiting students. I had opened my family to enough scrutiny for one day.

"Look, I've gotta do what my dad tells me," he said, speaking low and evenly.

"Me, too."

He raised his eyebrows in question. "So let's just stay out of each other's way, okay?"

"Agreed." I had been prepared for threats, so I relaxed a little.

"If we're assigned to visit Bella on the same day, I'll switch with someone," Jacob said, assuming I had volunteered to visit Bella.

The assumption set off another round of independent and collaborative scheming between the foreigner and the fiend. _ I knew_ that I needed an excuse to make a daily appearance at the hospital; and that my father's employment might be sufficient to ensure I would be assigned the task of making hospital deliveries, if the school secretary was involved in any way. Fortunately, a conveniently timed basic first aid class would provide a reason for me to be at the hospital all day on Saturdays.

"Thank you," I said, and I meant it.

"Cullen . . . " The boy's indifference to his father's fears and anger caught me off guard. "I know my old man really is glad that you kept Bella from getting hurt; but he really, really doesn't want you in her room, so could you try to not be here when he's around? If you can? Okay?"

"I'll try," I pledged.

"I gotta go; our ride's here."

Jessica Stanley wanted a final word with Jacob Black and skipped over with Mike Newton's list.

"Jacob, here's my phone number, you know, just in case you want to . . ."

But Jacob moved to his father's side quickly, never hearing the vapid girl.

"So Edward . . ." Stanley's nauseating mental image convinced me that there were some forms of torture that even my enemies did not deserve.

"You do know he's not old enough to drive?" I queried.

Stanley gapped at me as I turned away.

"Edward? Edward?" Angela attempted to stop me. "I heard you tell the ambulance driver that you were standing next to Bella when the van almost hit her." Now, she had my attention.

"Um . . . yeah, that's right."

"That was really brave: pushing her out of the way. The accident could have been so much worse. Bella could have died. Or you could have been hit."

Angela was sincere and I saw nothing in her mind that revealed she had any doubts about my story. "I wish she had not been hurt."

"Aw, I know," she said empathetically. "So are you going to volunteer to read to Bella. When she wakes up, she'll need help catching up in class, and you are her lab partner."

"Actually, I come to the hospital a lot, so I am going to tell Mrs. Copley that I can drop assignments and books off everyday."

"Wow, that's great." Angela smiled a little and sighed. "Edward, do you think she's in pain?"

The question ignited new worries. _Was Bella in pain? _

"I pray that is not the case," I uttered softly. "She didn't appear to be . . . suffering."

"You've seen her?"

"For a few minutes. Bella's dad is with her and the doctors and nurses are going to make sure that she's alright," I said, trying to reassure Angela and myself.

"Edward," Carlisle called out to me as he approached. _ Everything okay?_ "It's time to go."

I nodded. "Angela, this is my father, Dr. Cullen. He's helping to take care of Bella."

"It's nice to meet you, Dr. Cullen. I've heard you're the best doctor in Forks, so I'm relieved to know you're treating her," Angela remarked.

"Angela. Angela Weber. You're a volunteer here at the hospital," my father said.

"I help the art therapist when she visits the geriatric and pediatric units," Angela replied.

"That's terrific. When Bella wakes up, I'm sure she'll appreciate working with you." Carlisle smiled.

"Your brothers and sisters don't have plans this evening." Although Carlisle spoke the words calmly, his inner voice noted that the closet thing to a plan my siblings had was to skewer me. Carlisle glanced apologetically in my direction. "We have all the time in the world; whatever time you need. Driving straight home isn't mandatory," Carlisle said.

Carlisle drove the Mercedes the same way he handled everything else: leisurely and smooth. Of course, anything that approached normal traffic minimums seemed painfully slow to me. It didn't help that the snow had begun to fall again and Carlisle was content to blend in with traffic, allowing less patient drivers to move around us. I too lacked Carlisle patience. I was seldom a passenger; the only activity I liked more than running was driving. Fast.

I made no comment as Carlisle turned the car south on Highway 101, toward Aberdeen. A short distance from town he turned onto a road that led to the Hoh Rain Forest Visitors Center. The center was closed and the parking lot was empty, but a ranger's truck was parked against the curb in front of the building. Carlisle took his foot off the gas and let the Mercedes slowly roll to a stop.

Although our bodies did not require protection from the weather as humans did, we were not dressed for hiking. Leaving the car in attire unsuited for hazarding the snow and ice would show anyone watching that we were very different. Since we could not be assured of privacy, Carlisle let the car idle while we watched the snow fall.

I lowered the window and allowed a few snowflakes to fall into my palm. The ice crystals retained their shape, absent body heat to spur their melting. Generally, I found studying their symmetry to be a restorative activity that I enjoyed; but today, it only reminded me of my last trip to Alaksa, where the blinding blood thirst had evolved and been replaced by an all-consuming curiosity.

Now, that passionate spirit of inquiry had been supplanted by outright infatuation. Dismayed, I found that, although I had more securely caged my monster, I had locked him inside with a stranger, who whispered to us of unfamiliar feelings and fathomless mysteries.

I didn't know what to say.

Carlisle was quiet; waiting for me to begin, he thought about Charlie Swan's apology. I had assumed that Carlisle's carefully controlled concern masked deeper anxieties, but I was wrong. As I observed his satisfaction, I realized that Carlisle was proud.

Carlisle was proud of me.

His respect washed away all consideration of withholding my confession; subterfuge was not an honorable way to address the problem and my fears. So I began.

"I cannot yet explain my actions today; I know that is not a satisfactory way to accept responsibility for my behavior, but it is a beginning. I am sorry for putting our family at risk and for burdening you with my doubts and confusion."

By the time Carlisle had driven back to home, I had related my surprise in finding myself so thoroughly incapacitated by Bella's touch and her nearness. Carlisle asked little, reiterating my comments and offering reassurance of his faith in my ability to find the strength to face this challenge.

He did not need to remind me that I still faced the Cullen Family Inquisition.

An hour into the debate, I began wishing for death.

"Rosalie, my God, you are a lethal harpy!"

"Edward," Esme silenced me. "There will be no name calling. No sarcasm. No double entendre. Nothing." Esme met every eye. "From. Anyone."

Rosalie continued to berate and threaten me in her thoughts, knowing I would not complain to Esme. I shrugged and shifted in my seat so I Rosalie could stare at the back of my head.

"Edward, I'm sorry; despite your revelation, I don't think it is a good idea for you to go back to the hospital," Carlisle said gingerly. "Rosalie is right this time; you are not completely in control of yourself and we can't risk another run in with someone from La Push."

"Bella needs me," I argued.

"Oh, Jeez, Edward!" Rosalie groaned. She was clearly disgusted. "She isn't a stray cat that showed up on the doorstep. You can't keep her, Edward."

"Rosalie," Esme hissed.

"She's my responsibility."

"You're right about that," Rosalie snarled. "And its your responsibility to fix the situation, but you indicate that you are unwilling to do what needs to be done."

"There isn't anything to 'be done' or maybe there isn't anything that I can do that I haven't done already. We don't know if Bella will regain consciousness."

"I have full faith in Bella's recovery," Carlisle said. "But we won't know what she will remember until . . ."

"And that still leads us back to the fact that the girl should be dead," Rosalie argued. "Jasper . . . and Emmett agree with me."

Emmett shrunk two inches. "Well, Rose . . ."

She gave him a look that said he was bound for the pyre, if he crossed her.

Suddenly, Alice, who had been sitting contentedly with her hands folded in her lap, decided to speak. "That's enough! If Edward can get his . . . urges under control, Bella - not _the girl -_Bella is going to be a part of this family."

While I was stammering, shocked by the visions in Alice's mind, Carlisle responded.

"Emmett was the last."

"Carlisle, Edward deserves to be with his mate," Alice challenged.

"Alice," Jasper whispered. "Vampires can't have human mates."

* * *

**Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet: Act 5, Scene 3

**In the next chapter:**

"Edward, I'll talk to Carlisle. Maybe he will let me take you to the hospital to see Bella," Esme patted my arm.

"I can't bear the thought of her there . . . alone."

"Aren't the students from the school visiting everyday?"

"Yes, and some of the people from La Push."

"What about you, Edward. Isn't that where you are going every night?"

Disclaimer: The wonderful Stephenie Meyer owns the world of Twilight and all its inhabitants. I just wanna play with her toys. No copyright infringement is intended.


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